<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>from echoes within (and without) by Marzue</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28542675">from echoes within (and without)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marzue/pseuds/Marzue'>Marzue</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Batfam 18+ January Prompt Event [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(it's mentioned in passing but just in case I'll tag it), Angst, Bruce Wayne is Not Okay, Bruce Wayne is a Bad Parent, Bruce is NOT having a good time here, Canonical Character Death, Canonical Child Abuse, Death, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, One Shot, Sad, This is sort of Bruce bashing so if that's not your cup of tea it might be best to skip this one, Violence, but be warned it is shown, family (or lack thereof), the violence is largely from canon events</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:02:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,755</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28542675</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marzue/pseuds/Marzue</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce sits alone in his cave, and has an epiphany. </p>
<p>Day 3: "The worst part is, you didn't even notice."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dick Grayson &amp; Damian Wayne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Batfam 18+ January Prompt Event [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2085816</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>222</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Bat Family 18+ Discord Server January Prompt Event</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>from echoes within (and without)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for the Batfam 18+ Server January prompt list. Special thanks to Aurora for both helping me figure out this prompt and figure out the Bruce dialogue!!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s a chilly day in the middle of Autumn when Bruce has a realization.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s sitting at his desk, working an old case file that he’s stuck on (though not worried about), when he realizes he’s missing a section of data that he knows he had a couple days ago.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Reaching over to call Tim, he frowns when he gets the message “the number you have dialed has not been recognised”. He tries again, double checking to make sure the number he entered was correct (it is), and he tries calling again. “the number you have dialed has not been recognised.” Odd. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Worried, he calls Dick. His call is immediately sent to voicemail, as are the next three calls of his. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Damian doesn’t answer his first call, nor his second call. Bruce doesn’t leave a message. He doesn’t even know Jason’s number.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bruce sits there, in the batcave, and realizes that, despite the family he’s adopted, despite the children he’s fostered, no one’s there. No one’s left. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bruce is all alone, and he’s realized it for the first time.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Bruce is sitting in his office, tired after two nights of nonstop physical activity followed by long, tedious days of monotonous financial work. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Damian comes up to him, almost hesitant, and Bruce notes in the back of his mind that Damian isn’t this tentative.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hello father, I wish to speak to you about something.” Bruce continues to look at his documents, but hums a note of acknowledgement.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I am planning on spending an unspecified amount of time residing in the Titans Tower. I have already packed my items, and will be leaving soon.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“If you want to visit your friends, I have nothing against that, Damian.” He’s not paying full attention, but he thinks Damian slouches a bit at his statement.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Good. Then I shall get ready for the trip. Goodbye father.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Bruce doesn’t say goodbye back, and makes a note to check in later at the Tower that Damian arrived safely.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He forgets to check in.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Damian is mad, is grieving, is furious... and Bruce can’t help him.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He stares ahead, the family in anguish, and he can’t help them. He doesn’t even know where to start. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He knows Damian blames himself for Alfred’s death, does nothing to stop that train of thought, but he ignores it for now. He can’t spare the energy to worry about it now.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Damian storms away, vowing to avenge Alfred. Bruce does nothing to stop him, nothing to comfort his youngest son.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Alfred is dead, and Bruce can focus on nothing else but the grief he feels within. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bruce receives a single text from Damian, the phrase “I am alright, father, but I am currently busy.” He shrugs it off (pushes it off, doesn’t want to acknowledge the pain it brings) and searches for the missing data that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows</span>
  </em>
  <span> to exist.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Hours later, Bruce finds the missing data slid into a different folder. His system has gotten messed up, and he makes a note to schedule time to reorganize. Checking the time, he realizes he has Wayne Enterprise responsibilities that he can no longer push off. Important meetings to attend, documents to sign, people to talk to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(He has forgotten yet again that Alfred is no longer there to make him food and set out his clothes. Getting ready for work takes much longer than he’d like.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he races his way across the city, he thinks back to Damian. If he really, truly ruined all chances of connecting with his son. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knows, deep down inside, that no normal father should have to wonder if his teenage son will call him back. He’s well beyond the realms of normal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rushing into the office, he nearly trips over Tim, who’s rushing similarly (though in an opposite direction).</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tim!” Tim stops and turns to him, and Bruce doesn’t think he’s imagining the slight panic in his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi Bruce… How are you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was hoping to talk to you about something.” Tim’s face betrays nothing, but the slight stutter in his breath does.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your phone number was disconnected? I was receiving a message that it was no longer operational, and I just wanted to check that with you.” Bruce fumbles through the statement, wondering just when it got difficult to talk to Tim, to power through a conversation. When he had to </span>
  <em>
    <span>justify</span>
  </em>
  <span> having a conversation with his son. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tim seems jittery, glancing behind Bruce as he adjusts the folders he’s holding. He taps his right foot, absently, as he edges towards the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, right, that. Uh. My phone broke recently and I had to reset everything, including my number. Nothing to worry about.” Tim’s quick smile doesn’t reach his eyes, and he seems intent to rush past Bruce.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“May I have your new number?” Bruce uses his height to his advantage, blocking Tim from being able to easily slip past him, through the doorway. Tim sighs and looks him straight in the eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Listen Bruce I’m late for a meeting, I can send you my new number after, alright? We’ll sort this out.” Bruce has no choice but to move to the side and let Tim step through. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hours later, Tim's secretary emails Bruce the number to Tim’s business phone. Tim never follows up with his personal number, and Bruce doesn’t ask.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You don’t know a </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>damn</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> thing!” Bruce barely acknowledges the pain coursing through his wrist. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The comfort that Tim tries to give him brings nothing but anguish, nothing but pain. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Red Robin stands in front of him, clutching his face. Bruises will take longer than a moment to set in, but Bruce isn’t in the mood for worrying about that sort of thing. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Bruce, I know you loved her.” But in that moment, Bruce feels nothing but anger.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The slap echoes loudly across the roof.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bruce knows why he’s being stonewalled.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Bruce spends his next evening in the cave, surrounded by folders, documents, and assorted papers to be reorganized. Though his digital files are up to date, past experience leaves him cautious to leave sensitive information available on the batcomputer. Ongoing case files are kept on paper only. So preoccupied is he that Bruce almost misses the sound of footsteps echoing around him, muted but consistent.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jason is standing before him, in full Red Hood armor, and Bruce can’t help but feel relief at the sight of Jason alive (he ignores his brain whispering, asking him what kind of father doesn’t even know if his son is alive? Bruce is already well aware.) A seconds’ temptation leaves him wanting to go back to organizing his files, to push off the emotional conversation that’s soon to come. He squashes that instinct and rises to greet his son.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello Jason, I hope you are well.” Jason scratches the back of his neck and nudges an empty folder to the side. His body language seems very controlled, nervous. Almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>afraid</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi Bruce,” Jason says, voice oddly muted. “I just wanted to tell you that I’ll be going on an undercover mission, for a while. Months, maybe.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I trust you’ll be safe?” The unsaid concern, worry for his son dances on Bruce’s tongue, but they don’t have that relationship. Not anymore. He hopes Jason understands (but how </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> Jason understand, a voice within cries, if he’s not done anything to indicate his love?)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I-- listen, that’s not really what I came here to tell you. I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to be AWOL for a while.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, I see. What is it you wanted to talk about with me?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I… don’t want you to contact me.” Bruce’s eyes snap to Jason’s, but Jason averts his gaze.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I understand if your mission requires no outside contact, if you’d like I can--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, Bruce.” Jason’s shoulders come up, near his ears, before he turns to look Bruce dead in his eyes. “I want you to stop contacting me completely.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He leaves before Bruce can find the words in himself to respond.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The penguin is dead. A gunshot echoes through the streets, echoes through his soul, and the Red Hood is to blame. Dick dies in front of him, only for a moment, and Nightwing is to blame.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The anger, the righteous fury he feels bubbles within, and he fights to protect. Whom he protects remains undetermined, but he will find justice. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Bruce fist smashes the helmet, red shards crunching underfoot. Bruce swings his leg, his foot connecting with Dick’s jaw. His body is covered in cuts, bruises that slowly bloom.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Dick is flatlining in front of him, and all he can do is watch as Luthor smothers him. Jason scrambles beneath his feet, not quite fighting back but still in motion, and Bruce doesn’t act, just react. His leg hits Jason’s face.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>let them</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> kill you!” The anguish he felt turns to anger turns to rage, and he needs to know, needs to </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>prove</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> that Dick is better, Dick won’t fail.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Dick stands before him, blood dripping from his face, and Bruce barely listens as Dick screams. “How can you do this to </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>me</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>?!” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Bruce punches Dick’s face, and he almost feels remorse when he hears, “I am not your </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>boy</em>
  </b>
  <b>.”</b>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Jason’s jacket is grasped in his hands, mask shattered. “I’ve never seen you hit </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>Joker</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> that hard.” Fractured shards of glass are embedded in his gauntlets, in his hand, and he feels nothing. His son’s blood coats his hands, and he feels nothing but fury. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bruce wakes up, and he loathes himself a bit more.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>It is only two days later when Dick contacts him. He’s in the middle of going over WE documents when his screen lights up, cheerful ringtone jingling away. At first, he glances at the screen, disinterested, only to panic when he realizes who is calling. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello?” His voice sounds dry, strained, and he clears his throat before trying again. “Hello, Dick.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dick’s voice is no-nonsense and no-bullshit when he responds. “Bruce, we need to talk.” Bruce swallows, his mouth suddenly dry, and he knows. Dick isn’t fucking around anymore, and Bruce has messed up majorly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, Dick,” he numbly responds. “I’m always available to talk about whatever you need, son.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t call me that.” Bruce’s brain freezes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t call me son. Please.” The please does nothing to hide the command in Dick’s voice. This is not a request, and Bruce is treading on </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> thin ice right now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, Dick, if that’s what you wish.” He tries to ignore his heart pounding in his chest. “I- what did you want to talk about?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You need to stop contacting Damian.” Bruce is aware that the call is of a serious nature, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows</span>
  </em>
  <span> nothing good can come from it, but his heart still shutters when he hears the demand. He can’t stop the disbelief from entering his tone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Excuse me?” Dick doesn’t waver.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You heard perfectly well what I said Bruce. You need to stop calling Damian.” Bruce can’t help but feel his shackles rise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Damian is my </span>
  <em>
    <span>son</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Dick. You can’t demand me to just stop talking to him!” He hates how he has to defend himself from his son, hates the position he’s maneuvered himself into. Dick’s scoff is faint, but Bruce can still hear its tinny echoes from his phone’s speaker.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You and I know fully well just how inaccurate that statement is. This isn’t me asking, Bruce. Stop contacting Damian.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And why, exactly, should I stop calling my son?” Bruce can’t stop himself, the words spilling out of his mouth. “What I do and don’t do with my child is none of your business, Dick, and I fail to see the reason for your concern.” Dick’s voice before was commanding, but now his tone is nothing short of icy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You contacting Damian is-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A normal thing for a </span>
  <em>
    <span>father</span>
  </em>
  <span> to do Dick, I don’t understand the issue here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Not</span>
  </em>
  <span> a normal thing for you,” Dick corrects. “You spend weeks isolated and fixating on the Mission, then panic and frantically call all of us when you need help. That’s not the father Damian needs, he needs dependability and stability.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s an unfair assessment,” Bruce tries to argue but Dick is quick to cut him off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bruce, I have </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> called here to argue the point with you. You are causing Damian a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lot</span>
  </em>
  <span> of emotional stress right now, stress he does not need. I’ve already been left to pick up your other messes, so please. Don’t make this more difficult for me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> been leaving you to deal with my messes, Dick. I know we’ve had our fair share of arguments in the past, and I know I’ve </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt</span>
  </em>
  <span> you Dick, and for that I’m extremely sorry, but my problems are my own. If Damian is annoying you, I can talk to him and clear things up.” Dicks laugh is bitter, and Bruce is left wondering just when Dick’s chuckles no longer were sincere.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You will do NO such thing Bruce. That is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> what I’m saying and you know it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then what’s the point you’re trying to make?”</span>
</p>
<p><span>“Spyral mission, approximately one week after I was declared dead. And revived, though you neglected to inform anyone about that bit. Upon waking up from my medically induced coma, you beat me within an inch of my left, sent me into a hostile organization. </span><b><em>You</em></b> <span>sent me, with no backup sans you, on a mission </span><b><em>you </em></b><span>were pursuing, and to top it all off, you went and got </span><em><span>amnesia</span></em><span> halfway through!”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>“You can’t honestly blame me for having amnesia!” Bruce interjects, and he already knows he’s responded to the wrong part of Dick’s statement. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not blaming you for your amnesia anymore than you blamed me for Ric.” Dick sounds legitimately angry (justifiably angry), and in the moment he takes a breath to calm down Bruce responds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dick, I apologize for my actions surrounding your head wound, and I sincerely regret the words that were said.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That's not it, Bruce! That’s not the point! You need to face it. I’ve always been forced to deal with your baggage. Your messes, your failures. I am telling you with complete sincerity, you need to stop.” Dick is on a roll now, and nothing would be able to stop him, not even the indomitable force of Batman. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Damian runs off to go on a guilt crusade because he blames himself for Alfred </span>
  <em>
    <span>dying!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Your response is to try to make Tim Robin again. Jason is MIA, and the closest I’ve come to being able to contact him is having one of his allies ‘politely’ tell me to stop asking, and all they’ll tell me is that Jason’s alive. Tim changed his number a few weeks ago, Bruce, did you notice? When was the last time you talked to me, to any of us about non-bats related things?” Bruce’s weak “yes” is barely acknowledged.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"The worst part is, Bruce, you didn't even notice when we were gone. We left you, and you </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t know.</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Bruce’s breath sounds loud, even to his own ears, and he can’t calm his brain enough to respond.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop talking to Damian, Bruce. Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dick hangs up, and Bruce finds himself unable to do anything but numbly stare at the documents in front of him.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Bruce watches Damian, leaving in a fit of grief and rage, and can’t find it in himself to call out, to go after him.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Batman studies Red Robin, whose face is quickly turning red (and later, he notes on a clinical level, to turn purple and blue). He can feel the rage on his tongue, the pain in his throat as he screams. “You don’t know a </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>damn </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>thing!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Batman looks down at the Red Hood, helmet shattered. He is fuming, blood boiling, and he can think of nothing more than the overwhelming fury he feels as he hisses. “I was a </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>fool</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> for ever believing in you.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Batman stares down dispassionately at Nightwing, unmasked and prone as he stands before him. His elbow strikes forward, at Dick, his stomach roiling in the fury he felt. “I trained you to live, and I watched you </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>die</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>!” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Bruce stares down at the grave of the only man in his life who stuck around until death separated them both, and he knows. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yes, Bruce is alone, and he’s come to realize that the only one to blame is him. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Dialogues and scenes taken from the following comics: <br/>Batman: Pennyworth R.I.P. #1<br/>Batman (2016) #71<br/>RHATO (2018) #25<br/>Nightwing (2011) #30</p>
<p>I swear I love good dad Bruce, but sadly modern canon doesn’t seem to love good dad Bruce. This is sort of a mess, (and unedited rippp) but I just wanted to get SOMETHING out on time. If you notice any grievous errors don’t hesitate to let me know! I have a bad habit of forgetting to finish sentences, lol.</p>
<p>And, as always, Comments and Kudos are greatly appreciated! I have SO many thoughts over these boys, and what DC’s allowing to be done to them. Have a wonderful day!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>